Fable: The Ripper and The Gypsy
by no-one-is-special
Summary: Jack is a professional assassin known through out Albion as 'The Ripper'. Annette is a simple gypsy who dreams of adventure. Neither of them know that their destinies are tied to each others and to the fate of Albion. Can also be found on DeviantART.
1. Prolouge: The Ripper

**Prologue:**

Everyone ignores the beggar on the streets. Nobles attract attention, bards provide entertainment for people, children run up and down the streets causing parents to worry, and even rats cause revulsion and disgust among people. But everyone ignores the beggar on the streets.

Jack had learned that this was true throughout Bowerstone's history. While it may have made life hard for the less fortunate of Albion's largest city, it was perfect for his current career. He may have well been invisible as he sat on the bridge that led to the Bowerstone Market. Jack had been waiting on the bridge since midday, scanning the crowd for one individual, and he would wait for many more hours if he had to. Every ten to fifteen minutes Jack would ask a random person if they could spare some gold to keep up his disguise, he never got a response.

Hours passed before Jack found the person he was waiting for. The man was small, pale and pudgy, and had an overwhelming air of arrogance about him. He was defiantly a noble or someone important. The man who hired Jack had said his name was Kiernan or something like that. Upon seeing him and his large bodyguard Jack stood up and stepped out in front of the noble and his large manservant. Almost immediately the large bodyguard placed himself between Jack and Kiernan, his large hand going to the giant steel axe strapped across his back. Jack's hand went to the rusty katana he kept at his waist. The town guards sensed something was about to happen and made a move to arrest Jack. Too late.

Jack rushed forward drove the rusted blade of his katana into the bodyguard's gut. As the guard howled in pain Jack pulled his blade out and slashed at his neck. The jagged edge of the blade tore out chunks of flesh like a saw on wood. Jack turned just as a town guard was swinging his steel long sword for Jack's back. Jack blocked the sword with his and jabbed the man quickly in the throat. As the guard choked Jack noticed Kiernan running back towards the town center. Jack sprinted across the bridge just as Kiernan tried to disappear in the crowds in the market. Unfortunately for him his bright outfit made him stick out like a sore thumb so Jack had no trouble picking him out.

Jack snickered as his prey turned down an alley to lose him. Jack ran up the wall and scaled it, once he was on the roof he ran across it as Kiernan ran through several alleys. Jack jumped across the rooftops as Kiernan ran into a dead end alley. As Kiernan tried to catch his breath Jack walked to the edge of the roof top directly above Kiernan. Jack smirked as he stepped off the edge and landed directly in front of his target. Kiernan shrieked in terror as Jack slowly drew his rusty katana, its jagged edge seemed to hunger for Kiernan's blood.

"Who are you?" Kiernan almost screamed as Jack stalked forward.

"Some call me Jack the Ripper." Jack informed the man using the nickname the guards had given him over the years. Before Kiernan could start begging for his life and making empty promises Jack dragged his sword across the short man's plump belly, ripping the man's gut open and spilling his innards on the ground. "Still have no idea why they call me that." Jack muttered as he threw away his sword and knelt next to the body. Jack muttered a few words under his breath as he pocketed the corpses ring and sack of gold.

"The shadow court welcomes you with open arms." Jack said standing up. As Jack stood he heard the guards finally catching up. Without another word Jack turned away from the body and walked out of the alley, into the crowded streets. After disappearing into the crowd Jack made his way out of Bowerstone towards Rookridge, the guards never managed to pick him out from the rest of the crowds. After all, everyone ignores the beggar on the streets.


	2. Boring and Mundane

Annette found herself paralyzed as she watched the horror unfold before her eyes. A man dressed in all blacks stood in the center of an arena. Dozens of bodies lay around him, their blood seeping into the sand, staining his clothes, and dripping from his blade. Slowly the man turns to her, his face hidden in shadow. With careful, measured steps, the blood-covered man approaches her, his bloodstained coat trailing behind him. Before long he stood in front of her, his face still hidden in shadow. In contrast Annette could clearly make out his eyes, a bright green that had an almost unnatural glow to them.

An eternity passed before he lifted his sword into the air. The light reflected off the blade and illuminated his face. He was young, only about 19, his face unmarked, save for a long slender scar that ran across his right cheek. Void of emotion the young man brought his blade down.

Annette's eyes shot open as she sat up on her sleeping mat. Panting, she wiped the sweat from her brow as her senses returned to her. The man, the blood, the arena, and the bodies were gone, in their place was her caravan. With a sigh she fell back onto her sleeping mat, sunlight drifted in through the window, preventing her from drifting back to sleep.

"Like I could after that nightmare." She muttered shielding her eyes from the light with her hands. After a few moments she forced herself to get and dress herself. Once she had her clothes on she stepped outside her caravan into the gypsy camp. With winter come and gone, her family, along with the rest of their group of nomads, had returned to their seasonal home at Bower Lake. Annette yawned as several children ran past her, before sliding to a stop in front of old Karl, the story weaver in the camp.

Karl had been old when Annette was only 5, now she was 17 and story weaver looked like he would fall apart if you blew on him. Still the old man smiled as the children settled down and begged him to tell them a story. Karl sat on his bench and told them the story of how Albion's King came to power. Karl claimed to have known the King years ago, back when he was called Sparrow. Annette had heard this story several times during her childhood.

Annette smiled before she headed for the center of the camp. As usual the camp was filled with activity, from the musicians to the dancers, there was hardly ever a dull moment in the camp. Unless you wanted an actual life. Annette had grown tired of the repetitive lifestyle in the camp over the years. As childish as it seemed, Annette wanted a life of adventure, wanted to do something meaningful.

"Hey Anne!" a voice called to her, Annette turned to see her friend, Rachel approach with her boyfriend, William. "Guess what." Rachel said then immediately answered without waiting for a response. "William asked me to marry him!"

"Oh, congratulations Rachel!" Annette cried pulling her friend for a hug. "So when's the ceremony?"

"Two weeks from today." William answered with a large grin on his face. "We were about to make the announcement to the rest of the camp, but Rachel insisted we tell you first."

"I'm so happy for you two." Annette laughed as William draped his arm over Rachel's shoulder.

"Thanks Anne." Rachel said with a grin that rivaled her fiancé's. "We were going to go down to the lake after the announcement, you want to join us?"

"Sure." Annette responded.

The news of Rachel and William's engagement was well received by the camp, but not a big shock to anyone. Everyone had suspected that William was going to propose sooner or later. In any case once the couple had received congratulations, and a few condolences from William's friends, Annette, Rachel, William, and their friends all headed down to the lake.

Annette stayed on the shore while everyone else swam to their hearts content. After she'd almost drowned in the lake when she was about 7 she'd never gone into water, save to take a bath.

'Two weeks until something interesting happens in the camp.' Annette thought as she lay in the grass. 'Then it's back to the boring routine.' Automatically she turned her head to look at the road leading to Bowerstone. In the distance she could barely make out the royal castle. 'Maybe after the wedding I'll take a trip to Bowerstone. It's bound to be more entertaining than living here day after day.'


	3. The Gentle Killer

Jack smirked as the bandits moved to surround him. He'd been walking through Rookridge for hours, and the bandits had been stalking him for the majority of it. No longer disguised as a beggar Jack appeared like the perfect target for a mugging. This in mind he had purposely taken the most secluded route through out the region. The bandits around him snickered as they brandished swords and pistols. Jack took a moment to take note of the number of men and their weapons. There were eight men, five with swords and three with pistols.

"Get lost little buddy?" one of the ruffians asked.

"No actually," Jack began dropping his smile, "I'm right where I want to be."

"And where would that be exactly?" the bandit asked flourishing his pistol in front of his face.

Jack let his voice drop, "Where no one will ever find your bodies." Jack punched the bandit in the jaw. Dazed, Jack had no problem spinning the man around using his body as a shield as he took the pistol from his hand. Before the bandits could react Jack fired his newly acquired pistol at one of the other gun-slinging bandits. The bandit clawed at his chest as the bullet punched through his heart.

As the bandit dropped Jack pulled his human shield to the side as the other gun-toting bandit pulled the firing hammer back. By the time the bandit pulled the trigger, Jack had placed his hostage directly into the bullets path. Jack released the bandit as the bullet tore through his throat, and rushed to towards another bandit. The bandit raised his sword, preparing to bring it down on Jack's skull. But Jack caught the bandit by his wrists and wrestled the blade from his grip. With a quick swing Jack severed the bandit's head from his shoulders before parrying a strike from another.

Mere seconds passed before Jack stood surrounded by the bodies of seven bandits. The only remaining one was armed with a pistol. He trembled as Jack stood there, blood, smeared all over his clothes and dripping from his stolen blade. Jack took a single step towards the bandit. The bandit screamed as he fired his pistol, the shot went wide and completely missed Jack as he closed the distance between them and ran him through with the sword.

Slowly removing the sword from the bandit's lifeless corpse, Jack glanced around to make sure no more bandits were hiding around him. Satisfied that he was alone Jack began rummaging through the bandit's possessions. He collected several silver and gold coins, the three pistols, and two swords, one to keep and the other to sell. He left the bodies to rot, and the remaining weapons to rust.

Jack casually walked up to the bar of the Rookridge Inn. The Innkeeper regarded him with a reserved glance before he went back to cleaning a pint mug. If he cared about the dried blood that caked around Jack's face and all over his clothes he did a great job not showing. Jack sat on a stool and waited for the Innkeeper to finish.

"All right lad, what'll you have?" he asked with a heavily accented voice.

"I need a room and would like a hot meal." Jack said pulling removing his coin purse from his belt. "Will this cover it?" he asked removing seven silver coins.

The Innkeeper pick up one of the coins and eyed it carefully, before smiling, "Aye lad, that ought about cover it." With that the Innkeeper pocketed the coins and produced a key, "Your rooms atop the stairs, first door to your right. Someone will come get ye when yer meal's ready."

"Thank you." Jack replied taking the key.

Atop the stairs Jack unlocked the door to his room and lit a lantern to illuminate it. It was plain and bare, nothing but a bed pressed against the wall and a chair in the corner. Perfect. Jack dropped his bag, his coin purse, the two swords he carried on his back, and the three pistols on the floor before stripping off his blood stained jacket, shirt and pants. Dressed only in his breeches Jack fell back on the bed and shut his eyes before letting sleep take him.

A knock at the door roused Jack from his slumber. Slowly he got off the bed and stalked over to the door.

"What is it?" he asked reaching into his bag for one of the pistols.

"Your meal's ready sir." A woman's voice responded from the other side. With a brief sigh of relief Jack put the pistol down and opened the door. Jack stood corrected, a girl's voice responded. The one holding a tray with a bowl of steaming stew was a young girl, about 13 years old. Jack noticed a faint flush in her cheeks when she saw Jack in his breeches.

"Just a minute." Jack said before shutting the door. Moving quickly Jack grabbed a clean pair of pants from his bag and pulled them on before opening the door again. When jack opened the door again, the girl offered the tray again. This time Jack took the tray and set it on the bed. He was about to start eating when he noticed the girl was still standing in the doorway. Only now did Jack actually notice the girl's appearance. She was dressed in clothing little better rags that looked like they were randomly sewn together.

"Is there something else?" Jack asked. She stared at Jack curiously while she shuffled her bare feet. He sighed before he grabbed his coin purse and fished out a gold coin. He held the coin in his palm as he stretched his arm out. The girl slowly approached as he patiently held his hand out. When she finally reached him, he let the coin slide to the tips of his fingers. Almost instantly the girl snatched the coin from Jack's hand and rushed out of the room.

Jack smiled as he turned to his meal. A bowel of beef stew, with a small loaf of bread, and a cup of water. There was even a small towel next to a bowl of water to wash up with afterwards. With no more interruptions, Jack ate his dinner, washed his face clean and drifted back into sleep.


	4. The Seer and Storyteller

Annette groaned as she forced herself off her sleeping mat again. Once more the man in black had haunted her dreams. Once more he stood surrounded by the bodies of those he killed, once more he approached her, blood soaked blade in hand. Once more he raised the blade and brought it down. Only this time he spoke before striking.

"I'm sorry." He'd said with a cool, soft voice. Annette found herself shivering as the memory of the dream began to fade. She looked out her caravan and saw that it was still dark outside. Not wanting an encore of her nightmare, Annette dressed herself and went outside.

The camp was quiet with most of the people still in bed. The only other person awake was Karl who sat next to the fire staring out into space.

"What're you staring at?" Annette casually asked as she sat next to him.

"Nothing, just remembering the old days." Karl remarked.

"Like when balverines stalked the forests of Albion?" Annette teased.

Karl smiled grimly as he replied, "More like when dragons flew through the skies and krakens swam the oceans. Speaking of which have I ever told you the story of how the Hero of Oakvale slew both a kraken and a dragon at the same time."

"No I don't believe you have." Annette responded. It was a lie, she'd heard Karl tell this story several times before, but she needed something to get her mind off her nightmare. Karl wove his tale as Annette leaned back and listened intently. As always Karl wove his tale with such clarity, such conviction in his voice that Annette could almost see the ancient hero battle the two monsters.

Despite herself Annette found herself fascinated by Karl's story. Her nightmares were the furthest things from her mind. When Karl finished his story, Annette stared at him, seemingly disappointed that it was over. Feeling tired once more she yawned before rising from her seat.

"Thanks for the story Karl." Annette said as she went into her caravan.

"You're welcome Annette." Karl replied stroking the fire causing sparks to fly into the air. Annette wasn't sure but she could swear she could make out an image of a man fighting a dragon and a kraken within the sparks, along with faint blue lines running up and down Karl's exposed neck and down his forearms. In the end she marked it up to her exhaustion and returned to her mat.

"You can come out now." Karl said as he stroked the fire some more. The old man turned as a woman dressed in a red cloak that hid the top half of her face emerged from the shadows. She appeared to be at least 60 years old, in truth however she almost 10 times that age. Her blind light blue eyes stared off into nothingness, yet still managed to see more than any person with sight. "Can't you ever just say hi Theresa? Instead of lurking in the shadows."

"When the situation calls for it I can." Theresa replied before striking a small grin, "It hardly ever does though."

"So I can assume that the reason you left your spire is because…"

"Yes Karl, the King is dead." Theresa finished, a hint of sadness in her voice. Theresa smirked when she heard Karl swear under his breath.

"Is his successor ready?" Karl asked in a hopeful tone.

Theresa smiled, "That depends on which one your talking about."

"You know which one I mean." Karl replied his temper growing short.

Theresa's grave expression returned, "No, his successor isn't ready yet."

"Bollocks!" Karl swore again. They both knew that meant that until The King's heir was ready Albion would be without a proper protector. Which meant somebody was going to have to fill the role until then. "She's not ready Theresa."

"No one ever is for the ordeals she'll have to face." Theresa agreed, "But she will not face them alone."

"You mean the boy." Karl inquired, "How is he coming along?"

"He is progressing well Karl." Theresa answered, "He's strong enough to serve his purpose and keep Annette safe."

"Very well." Karl conceded, "How long?"

"Two weeks." Theresa replied, "That should be long enough for Annette to attend her friends marriage."

Karl was about to ask how she knew about that before he realized whom he was talking to. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

"You and me both my old friend." Theresa said as she faded from view. "You and me both."


	5. Contracts

Jack strode into Oakfield, setting a brisk pace towards the Sand Goose. As he marched he paid no heed to the poor girl trying desperately to keep up with him. He honestly had no idea why the hell he was taking her to Oakfield.

"I must be going soft." Jack muttered while he waited at the Sand Goose's entrance. As the small girl, Gail, caught her breath Jack thought back a few days ago.

_He'd awakened in the inn and made his way to the bar for a quick breakfast. While he ate Gail rushed past him carrying a large heap of bed sheets. Unfortunately she couldn't see where she was going and crashed into the innkeeper. She dropped all her sheets and was knocked flat on her ass. The innkeeper raged as the girl stood up and tried to gather all the sheets. Before she could however the innkeeper slapped her across the face sending her sprawling to the ground once more. She slowly stood back up, her cheek already bruising over, and waited for the innkeeper to finish._

_The raging man raised his hand again struck Gail again. Or at least he would've if Jack hadn't caught him by his wrist. Stunned the innkeeper could only blink as Jack shoved him back._

_"Never hit a child in my presence." Jack warned before returning to his meal. He counted down from five. Five. The innkeeper glared at the back of his head. Four. He took a single step away from Jack. Three. He returned to his original position. Two. He started toward Jack pulling back his fist. One. Jack spun around and knocked the innkeeper's fist away with one hand while his other delivered an open palmed strike to his nose. Blood erupted as the man grabbed at his broken nose, Jack moved to the side of the innkeeper, grabbed him by his hair and slammed his face against the bar table. He'd out for a few hours, wake up with a monster headache, but he'd live. That's more than what most people got for attacking Jack when his back was turned._

_Jack grabbed his pack and went to the door. Before he left, Jack looked back and saw little Gail standing there, staring at him with wide brown eyes. Jack sighed as he rubbed his temples._

_"Well, you coming or not?" He asked. The girl perked up and Jack thought she was going to run to gather all of her things. Instead she just joined him at the door and said in her quiet voice._

_"Let's go."_

Jack had spent the entire trip on the way to Oakfield trying to figure out what he would do with the girl. In the end he decided to turn her over to the Temple of Light. The Abbot owed him a couple of favors anyway. Jack sat down at a table in the corner and Gail sat next to him. They sat in silence for several hours until a man, short but well built, approached them. He looked like he was in his late forties early fifties. His black hair was riddled with strands of silver.

"Gail, go get something to eat." Jack whispered in her ear as he pressed five gold coins into her hands. The girl smiled and rushed past the older man as he pulled a chair out and sat across from Jack. "Dante" he said simply as the man made himself comfortable.

"Good to see you again Jack." Dante replied a cheery smile plastered on his face. "So who's the girl, your little sister?"

Jack scowled, "You know damn well she isn't. She's just a loose end I picked up."

"Sorry, I forgot how touchy you are about family affairs." Dante apologized quickly. He still remembered when the young assassin had told him about his mother who'd tried to abort him in a most unusual fashion, a father who told him every day of his childhood that he wasn't wanted, an older brother who'd tried to kill him every chance he got, and an older sister who'd tried to sleep with him on more than one occasion. The fact that he was only an assassin and not a mindless serial killer is nothing short of a miracle.

"So where's Asher?" Jack asked trying to change the subject.

"He got transferred to Brightwood." Dante explained. Jack just nodded as he gestured toward Gail, who was happily stuffing her face with food. "What about her?"

"I want you to set her up at the Temple." Jack said laying his cards on the table. "From what I can tell she should already have a good enough sob story for the Abbot, but feel free to add anything to convince him. But if he still won't take her, tell him The Ripper is calling a favor." Dante nodded as he took out a piece of paper and a quill, along with an ink well. "You keep all of those on your person?"

"You of all people should know it pays to be prepared." Dante remarked with a smirk. Jack grudgingly nodded as Dante wrote down the details. When Dante finished he pulled a small scroll from his pocket. "Oh and this arrived a few days ago for you." Jack smirked as he unrolled the scroll, the Society was pretty damn good at guessing where he was going.

"Another job." Jack told Dante, though he had a suspicion he already knew. "At Bower Lake, too. Would've been so much more convenient if I had gotten this before I left Bowerstone."

"Yeah well we both know life isn't convenient." Dante pointed out, "So when're you leaving?"

"Immediately." Jack replied standing up. Leaving Dante at the table he walked out of the Sand Goose. He was slightly surprised that night had already fallen. As he made his way down the road he heard Gail attempting to run after him, begging him to wait. He never looked back as he became one with the shadows.

Meanwhile, in the center of one of the fields, Theresa stood, a small smile on her face. "The deck is set, now the game begins." She said, talking to herself, before disappearing in a flash of light.


	6. Soothing Comfort

"How does that feel?" Annette asked her patient as she finished setting the last of the bandages. Her patient was the camp's tattoo artist, Byrne, he was experimenting with a new type of ink for his tattoos and just happened to be allergic to the mixture. Rashes had spread to just about every part of his body, and Annette had wrapped him up in so many bandages he looked like a mummy.

"Itchy as all hell." Byrne complained. "But much better than before. Thanks Annette."

"Good, maybe the itch will remind you not to experiment with stuff you don't understand." Annette chided as Byrne slid his shirt back on. "You're good to go." Annette said opening her caravan door. Byrne left her caravan as a little girl walked up, sobbing, supporting her wrist with her hand. "Hello Ellen how's your wrist?" Around the camp Annette was essentially the closest thing they had to a doctor. She'd inherited the role from her father and had taken to it just as well.

Carefully she took Ellen's wrist and held it gently in her hands. The girl yelped as Annette applied a slight bit of pressure to assess the problem. The bones weren't fractured, the muscles hadn't torn, the ligaments were fine, the little girl had only sprained it. Smiling Annette gently massaged the wrist, slowly Ellen stopped sobbing as the pain in her wrist faded. When she finished Annette put Ellen's arm in a small sling and looped the strap around her neck. By the time Ellen left the pain on her wrist was the furthest thing from her mind.

Annette smiled as the girl left to join her friends. She watched as they ran off and had a sinking suspicion she'd be seeing Ellen and her friends soon. A slight frown wove across her face as her stomach grumbled. Sighing she turned and closed her caravan before heading down to the fire pit for some stew. After she poured herself a bowl Annette sat beside Rachel as she chattered on about her impending marriage. She nodded politely while she enjoyed her stew. Annette was happy for her friend but sometimes she wished she would talk about something else.

'Oh well, the wedding's in a few days and then everything goes back to normal.' Annette thought somewhat bitterly. Finishing her stew Annette excused herself and went down to the lake. Once she reached the lakes shore, she sat down and let the water run over her feet. She found the coolness of the lake soothing as she listened to the sounds of nature.

A small noise roused her attention and caused her to turn her head slightly. A lone figure was walking down the trail. He was young, only a few years older than herself, dressed in all blacks, a long sword was strapped to his back and a pistol hung on his belt. Annette smirked when she saw that he was heading for Hero Hill, appropriately named because it was rumored to be all that was left of the old Guild of Hero's.

"Just another explorer hoping to find some heroic artifact or something." Annette guessed. She stayed down at the lake for another hour before she went back to the camp, and found Ellen and her friends waiting outside her caravan, each supporting a bruised limb. Annette smirked as she unlocked her caravan and let her first patient in.

Annette was exhausted by the time she finished with her last patient. She drifted into sleep the instant she lay on her mat. She was so exhausted she didn't even hear the thunder outside. Or the gunshots that followed.


	7. Sold Out

Betrayals always hurt like hell. Couples are torn apart when one of the lovers is found to be cheating on the other. Mutinies always leave the former captain dead or fed to a kraken or some type of sea creature. No matter what someone is left wondering, "How the hell did I end up in this situation?" That was exactly why Jack preferred his role as an assassin. There were no betrayals to an assassin, and on the incredibly rare occasion there is a betrayal, the assassin is usually the one doing it.

That being said it didn't hurt to be on one's toes when attending a meeting like this. After all no matter how you look at it, you're going to be in an isolated place, surrounded by killers. That in mind Jack took extra precautions. In addition to the sword strapped across his back and the pistol on his belt, Jack had hidden daggers in both of his sleeves, strapped a long tanto to his inner thigh, and finally a poisoned throwing knife lay hidden in the folds of cloth under his armpit. Jack had arrived a few days a head of schedule so he waited atop Hero Hill for the others. As the other assassins arrived Jack pulled the black silk facemask up to cover the bottom half of his face.

Jack quickly took note of his company, five assassins in total, excluding him. The five assassins actually, each one of them was a specialist in a certain type of killing. There was Murray the Crusher, a giant of a man who could swing a hammer twice the size of Jack as though it weighed nothing. He called it Squirrelly. Next him stood Phillip the Chopper, a clinically proven psychopath who used nothing but rusted meat cleavers. Crouching to Jack's right was Lucy the Stalker, a quiet girl who was rumored to have been able to sneak up on a balverine, and slit its throat, after plunging several paralyzing toxins into its spine. To Jack's left was Vincent the Shooter, impossibly accurate with any type of firearm, some say even more so than Reaver. Finally there was Quinn the Brawler, preferred to beat his targets to death with his bare hands, no gauntlets, no knuckle-dusters, just flesh on flesh. In the whole of Albion there were six assassins who were regarded as the most dangerous, these people were five of them, Jack was the sixth, Jack the Ripper.

The six of them stood in silence as rain started to fall around them, each waiting for someone to start talking. Murray was the one to break the silence. "It's been awhile since all six of us were called for one job."

"Exactly two years, four months and seven days." Vincent clarified, he also had a knack for remembering specific dates.

"So does anyone here know who the target is?" Quinn asked looking each of the assassins in the eye.

"Whoever the target is, he or she is most likely in the Gypsy Camp nearby." Jack stated. "Why else bring us all to Bower Lake." The other five all nodded in agreement.

"In that case let's just go kill everyone in the camp!" Phillip practically screeched while reaching for one of his cleavers.

"Settle down Phil." Quinn ordered, "Your making Vin here nervous." Phillip looked at Vincent, who had grabbed one of his pistols and was aiming right between Phillip's eyes. Slowly Phillip put away his cleaver, only after he visibly calmed down did Vincent holster his pistol.

"What a charming reunion this is turning out to be." Murray commented, "Wouldn't you say Lucy?" The group all looked expectantly at Lucy who only response was a cold glare. No surprise there, most of them were convinced that Lucy was a mute. Of the five of them, only Jack and Quinn had ever heard her speak.

"Yeah, yeah. When can we get to the killing?" Phillip cried, clearly losing his cool. "Who the hell's the target?"

"That gentlemen shall be revealed shortly." A strange voice announced. All six assassins turned to face the source of the voice. It was an older man his gray hair thinning at his scalp. Unlike the six assassins, who were all dressed in mottled patterns of black and gray, the old man was dressed in stark white. Jack didn't know what but something about the old man didn't sit well with him. He may be paranoid, but that paranoia had kept him alive.

"Are you the target then?" Phillip asked reaching for his cleavers again.

"No my friend, I'm not your target." The old man calmly told him. "I'm the one who hired you all."

"Well you must have money coming out of your ass if you could afford all six of us." Vincent laughed.

"Five." The old man corrected, "I hired five of you." The old man immediately had the attention of all six of them. "Murray the Crusher, Phillip the Chopper, Lucy the Stalker, Vincent the Shooter, and Quinn the Brawler, I hired the five of you to kill Jack the Ripper."

An expression of shock appeared on everyone's face as the old man let his statement hang in the air. Jack exchanged glances with all the others and the same thing was etched on their faces. "I'm sorry."

"Fine by me!" Phillip yelled while sprinting toward Jack, swinging his cleavers madly. Acting on instinct Jack grabbed the pistol hanging on his belt and fired it. The bullet never reached him. Faster than Jack had thought possible, Vincent's six barreled pistol was in his hand, shooting Jack's bullet out of the air. Body acting on its own Jack leaned out of the cleavers path and smacked Phillip across the face using the barrel of his pistol. Before Jack could unsheathe his sword, Quinn was on top of him, beating him to point where he could only protect his head. Finally seeing an opening Jack brought his foot up and kicked for Quinn's chest. The Brawler caught his foot however and threw him to the center of the hill. While he rolled on the ground Jack managed to draw his sword.

As soon as he was on his feet Murray was right in front of him, Squirrelly about to crush his head to pulpy mess. Jack stepped out of the hammer's path and backhanded Murray across his chin. The giant didn't even flinch as he wrapped his large hand around Jack's neck and effortlessly lifted him off the ground. Panicking, Jack forgot about the sword he held in his hand and tried desperately to remove the giant hand from his neck. Murray laughed as he lifted Jack higher in the air before he slammed him into the ground. The others watched with amused expressions, their doubts forgotten in the heat of battle, as Murray planted his monstrous foot on top of Jack's chest. Both felt ribs threaten to beak under the weight.

Jack remembered the weapons he'd hidden in his clothes and pulled out the tanto. Jack rammed the tanto through Murray's Achilles tendon, causing the giant to fall to the ground. Standing with his sword in his right hand, tanto in his left Jack moved to engage Phillip. Of the five, Phillip was the only one Jack had no problem killing. Jack easily blocked, parried and countered all of Phillip's sloppy attacks. Taking advantage of Phillip's sloppy style, Jack swept his feet out from under him. As Phillip lay on the ground Jack was about to plunge his sword through his heart. Before Jack could finish Phillip however his entire body went numb.

"I'm sorry Jack." Lucy's quiet voice said as Jack's weapons fell from his hands as he dropped to his knees. Body paralyzed, Jack could only watch as Vincent walked up to him and pointed his six-barreled pistol at him.

'How the hell did I end up in this situation?' Jack thought before Vincent pulled the trigger.


	8. Weddings and Scars

"Today's the day." Annette realized when she'd woken up this morning. The ceremony was being held down by the lake. Annette couldn't help but smile as Rachel approached her fiancé as he stood proudly at what passed for an alter. Her friend truly did look beautiful, she wore a long green dress that was supposed to symbolize fertility and health, in life and among other things. Rachel took her place next to William.

The ceremony proceeded flawlessly. Rachel and William were tied together at the wrist as Karl oversaw the union. As the eldest person in the camp, it was his duty to preside over most ceremonies, marriage being one of them. After He spoke the traditional phrases, Rachel and William swore their oaths of love and commitment, and they were married. It was sealed with a kiss and applause from the witnesses. All that was left was the celebration.

Annette was helping herself to some of the food that had been prepared for the ceremony when she heard Rachel's scream. Almost immediately the entire party was halted as everyone rushed to the screaming bride. She was clinging to William like a mad woman, eyes wide, and mouth agape. In contrast William held her gently in his arms, eyes narrowed, mouth shut tight. The people followed their gazes to the lake's shore. Lying there, covered in blood and seaweed, was a young man dressed in black.

After they'd dumped Jack's dying body into the lake, the five assassins turned on their employer. The gray haired man looked at them with approving eyes.

"Yes I can defiantly use you five." He said with a cruel smile. "Now come with me, I have some gifts that will go well with your talents." The five killers glanced at each other for a moment before they followed their employer down the hill.

Within twenty minutes the people had taken the body up to the camp and laid him in Annette's caravan. Annette was left alone so she could treat the man's wounds without distraction. His breathing was shallow, so the first thing she decided to do was remove the blood-soaked shirt, both to properly check his wounds, and hopefully allow for easier breathing. Taking a small dagger, she made quick work of the bloodied cloth. As soon as she cut the shirt away she realized she wasn't meant treat him. She was meant to make him comfortable while he died. She marveled at the amount of bullet holes the man had in his chest, along with the much older scars he'd acquired over the years.

"Who are you and how are you still alive?" Annette asked herself. Curious, Annette pulled down on the black mask that was covering the lower half of her patients face. At the sight of his face however Annette found herself backing up against the wall as her nightmares were made flesh and blood. It was the same man she'd been seeing in her dreams for so long. The man who'd been killing her every night lay before her. Everything about was as she remembered, right down to the thin scar running on his right cheek.

Taking a moment to calm down, Annette looked at the dagger she held in her hand. 'I could kill him right now.' She realized, 'No one would ever know I did it.' She banished the thoughts immediately. The man was dying anyway, who was she to steal the few remaining minutes of his life away. Slightly disgusted with herself for even considering it, she set to making her dream killer's last remaining minutes in Albion as comfortable as possible. She was so busy tending to his wounds and making him comfortable she never noticed the wounds slowly begin to close once she finished them and covered him with a blanket.


	9. Awakening

_"Jack wake up." A soft voice entered into Jack's slumber. He tried to ignore as he rolled over on to his side. Jack woke up when he felt a gentle prodding in his ribs. Reflexively he covered his head to block a blow that never came. Then he remembered he wasn't sleeping at his house. He was sleeping in a brothel. More specifically The Blood Sapphire, the most popular whorehouse in Bloodstone. At the age of 12, Jack wasn't there for the reasons most people were. He was here, hiding from his father, Zeke._

_Unlike most places in Bloodstone, someone who actually had a heart ran The Blood Sapphire. Her name was Katrina. She let the many, many orphans of Bloodstone live there during the cold winters. Even though Jack wasn't an orphan, she made an exception in his case, due to his horrid father._

_"What is it?" Jack groaned as he looked up and found himself looking into Lucy's large innocent eyes. He found his answer instantly. They were worried, that scared him. Even though she was an orphan living on the streets of one of the most dangerous cities in Albion, and was only 9 years old, Lucy only worried about one thing. "Where is he?"_

_"Down the street." Lucy whispered, "He's looking for you." Almost as soon as the words left her lips the door to the brothel was kicked open. Standing there, crazed bloodshot eyes scanning over the group of scared children, was Jack's father._

_"Where are you, ya miserable little fuck?" he yelled. Jack wanted to sink into a corner and hide, but he knew that would only aggravate his old man. He stepped forward. "There you are, you little son of a bitch."_

_Jack smirked, "You know you shouldn't talk about yourself like that." The blow came, just as hard and fast as he expected. The pain was well worth the look on his father's face, right before he was sent sprawling on the ground._

_"Very funny you little fuck." Zeke slurred, "I have no idea where your sense of humor came from, but I suppose not everything about you is worthless." Zeke then proceeded to repeatedly kick Jack while he lay on the ground. Jack managed to catch a glance of Lucy who was gripping at a knife she'd stolen from a kitchen. She slowly began to creep over to Zeke, bringing her hand back. Before she could plunge the knife in Zeke's back however, a gunshot drowned out all other sound._

_Everyone turned to the source of the gunshot, a middle-aged woman, around 50 or so, stood with a clockwork pistol pointed right at Zeke's head._

_"Touch the boy one more time Zeke, and my girls will be scraping your brains off the door." Katrina threatened._

_"I'll do whatever the hell I want with the kid, he's my son." Zeke yelled, before bringing his foot back for another kick. He stopped his kick however when he felt a bullet graze his right ear._

_"I don't miss twice Zeke." Katrina cautioned, squeezing the trigger of her pistol. Zeke glared at her before he turned and left the brothel._

_Jack remained on the ground until Lucy came over and tried to help him to his feet. She helped him over to one of the couches Katrina kept in the brothel for the orphans to sleep on. The orphans that had been sleeping there quickly moved so Jack could sit. Katrina walked over to the couch and sat next to him. She gently stroked his hair while Lucy wrapped her arms around him Jack just stared blankly at the floor. They stayed like that until the door creaked open. Katrina quickly trained her pistol on the newcomer, thinking it was Zeke._

_She lowered the pistol with a small smile as she recognized the person. He was tall, built lean like a gymnast, and clad in leathers. A huge sword was strapped to his back, and several smaller blades hung on his belt. Several of the orphans looked at the stranger and saw death's avatar. Jack looked at him and saw power made flesh._

_"Expecting someone else Kat?" the man asked not even flinching at the pistol that had been pointed at his heart._

_"It's been a rough day Kyle." Katrina answered getting up from the couch._

_"So I've gathered." Kyle said looking at Jack. "So what did you want to see me for?"_

_Katrina gestured to the door to her office. Nodding Kyle followed Katrina inside, leaving the children alone._

_10 minutes later Jack was lying down on the couch sleeping off his pain, Lucy curled up against his chest trying to provide what comfort she could. Meanwhile in the adjoining room Kyle and Katrina discussed Jack's future._

Jack slowly opened his eyes as something warm and wet was pressed against his forehead. When the world came into focus he found himself not in The Blood Sapphire, but in some dingy little wooden room. Lucy wasn't sleeping next to him either, instead a woman was mixing herbs next him. Jack had woken up, and he was pissed.

A/N: Yes this Lucy is the same one who stabbed Jack in the back two chapters ago.


	10. Revelations

Annette heard the man groan in his sleep. Moving quickly Annette dipped a cloth into some warm water and pressed it against his forehead. Then she grabbed a mortar and pestle and started mixing some crushed herbs together. While she was mixing the herbs she heard a faint noise behind her. Suddenly Annette felt an arm wrap around her neck and felt something sharp prick her back.

"Scream and I'll kill you." a cold, quiet voice almost croaked in her ear. Annette slowly nodded to show she understood. "Answer all my questions and I won't hurt you. Firstly, where the hell am I?"

"The gypsy camp near Bower Lake." Annette whispered.

"Are you the one who healed my wounds?" Annette's captor asked. This time Annette simply nodded. "Thank you for that. Last question, where are my things?"

"Over there." Annette answered while slowly pointing at a wadded up shirt and a couple of daggers. Without another word Annette's captor released her and walked over to his discarded equipment. The stranger quickly pulled on his filthy shirt and buckled the sheathed daggers to his belt. Once everything was in order the stranger turned to Annette.

"Thank you for treating my wounds." He said quickly said. A sudden rage washed over Annette. She had spent hours slaving over this guy trying to make his death comfortable. She later spent days trying to make sure he didn't die once she discovered he was recovering. Then he decides to repay her by pressing a knife to her back and threatening her life! And now he was thanking her like nothing happened! Annette hand flashed forward, and slapped the stranger across his jaw. The stranger's head snapped to the side as Annette brought her hand back for another strike.

Her strike was cut short however as the stranger's hand shot up and caught her by the wrist. She tried in vain to pry her hand free from the stranger's vice grip. Her panicked brown eyes met his stern green.

* * *

Jack stared at the woman who'd struck him across the face with curiosity. Her blow was nothing compared to what his father used to give on a daily basis. In fact Jack had barely even felt her soft hand.

'_So why the hell is the left side of face numb?'_ Jack thought to himself. When her hand came up again, his hand easily caught her blow mid-swing. As he held her wrist Jack felt something strange. There was power in coursing through her arm, it felt strange almost like electricity. _'What are you?' _he asked mentally. Before he could voice his question the door opened behind him. Jack spun around and found himself staring at a ridiculously old man.

"Oh good you're awake." The old man said as Jack took a half step back while his hand dropped to one of his daggers. "I need you both to come with me." The old geezer said before adding, "Oh and Jack, just so you know it'll take a lot more than that dagger to kill me."

* * *

"Welcome to my humble abode." The old man stated as he led his five guests into an ancient tomb.

"Cut to the chase, what the hell are we doing here?" Murray asked while adjusting his grip on Squirrelly.

"And why did you have us kill Jack before you brought us here?" Vincent added before including, "And your reason better be a damn good one."

"Of course my friends." The gray haired man said with a low bow. "My friends I've brought you here to change the world. Surely you've all heard of the Cult of Blades."

"What the hell do a bunch of psychopaths who worship Jack of Blades have to do with this." Quinn asked. Hidden among the shadows, Lucy nodded a silent agreement.

"Well the Cult of Blades is going to do something horrible." The old man said. "My spies have told me that the Cult are planning to kill the recently appointed King Logan, and that they were going to use Jack to do it."

"Why would Jack work with the Cult?" Lucy asked in her quiet voice, causing everyone to turn to her in shock.

It took a moment for the old man to recover before he continued. "Jack would assist them because it's because of the cult that Jack even exists." This drew confused glances from everyone. The old man smirked once he realized he had their undivided attention.

* * *

"So, what do you do for a living?" Annette asked the young man, Jack, as they followed Karl into the near by forests.

"I fought and killed for whoever was able to pay me." Was his simple, if not blunt, reply. "Where're we going old man?"

"To find an _old _friend." Karl replied put emphasis on old. There was an awkward pause before Annette continued her questioning.

"So you were a mercenary?" Annette ventured a guess. Jack made no reply.

"He's an assassin." Karl suddenly said, drawing both of their attentions. "He's actually one of the six most dangerous killers in all of Albion." Annette, turned to look at the man who'd haunted her dreams, a man who'd undoubtedly caused the death of easily dozens of people, if not hundreds. The man whose life she'd saved. He was almost glaring at Karl, as if he was trying to decided whether or not he should try to kill the old man for knowing so much about him. Would he try to kill her too?

"Old man." Jack said in a barely audible whisper. "How do you know who I am?"

"I know all about you Jack." Karl commented like it should've been obvious.

"Then you should know I could kill you and the girl easily." Jack muttered. Annette's eyes widened in fear, and partial anger. How could this guy make death threats so calmly? What amazed her more was how calmly Karl reacted.

"Yes, but I also know that you don't kill anyone unless you were hired to kill them." Karl stated. "The only time you kill someone you haven't been hired to kill is when they attack with killer intent."

Jack just stared at the old man, apparently astonished. The expression was quickly replaced with a smirk.

"Damn." Jack muttered before adding, "So much for intimidation." Karl gave a hearty laugh.

"Don't sweat it kid. You wouldn't be able to kill me anyway." This drew confused glance from both Annette and Jack. "If time itself is unable to kill me, what chance do you have?"

"Time?" Annette asked. "What do you mean Karl."

Karl smirked, before saying "I'm immortal Annette."

* * *

A/N: I'm beginning to notice a pattern with my writing. The chapters focusing on Jack seem to focus on action but lacking in terms of actual story. The ones focusing on Annette seem to be either trying to move the story foreward with little to no action, or just filler. I'm gonna try and fix that in later chapters.


	11. A New Hero and Something Else

After Karl had told Jack and Annette about his immortality the three traveled in silence the remainder of their journey. It wasn't that neither of them didn't have questions, it's just that Karl wouldn't answer any of Annette's and Jack thought the old man was crazy. They finally came to what looked like an ancient stone circle on the ground.

"What is that?" Annette asked while Jack just stared at the circle, slightly amazed.

"You found a Cullis Gate?" he asked kneeling next to the ancient stone.

"What's a Cullis Gate?" Annette asked, noticing several runic symbols written all over the stone. Both Jack and Karl gave her a curious look before Karl cleared his throat.

"A Cullis Gate is a magical relic that the heroes of the Old Kingdom used to travel vast distances instantly." Karl explained. "Only a few remain active today. Now step into the circle you two."

"Where does it lead?" Jack asked warily as Annette obediently stepped on the stone. As soon as her feet touched the stone, the symbols began glowing with faint blue light.

"To your destiny." Karl replied with a cryptic smile.

"You know the last person who told me that, tried to kill me five seconds later." Jack said pointedly. But just the same the assassin stepped onto the stone circle. The faint blue glow darkened to a deep violet as Jack stood next to Annette.

Karl held out his hand as faint blue lines began to glow on his exposed skin. Suddenly the faint blue lines flared brightly as a bolt of lightning erupted from his palm into the Cullis Gate. The two felt a strange tickling feeling as they began fade.

"Auntie Theresa will explain everything." Karl whispered as the two in the circle disappeared. "Hopefully you two will come to understand before it's too late.

* * *

"Alright my friends you all know what we must do." The old man began. "First Phillip will go on a killing spree claiming to have been sent by Reaver. Eventually our King Logan will have no choice but to deal with him." Phillip grinned as he imagined all the people he would murder,

"That's when our dear little Lucy will present herself to the King and offer to take care of him. Lucy will temporarily 'kill' Phillip with one of her neurotoxins. Later she'll offer to go to bloodstone in order to take care of Reaver." Lucy shot a quick glance at Phillip, as if trying to decide whether or not she should really kill him.

"Vincent will travel to Bloodstone with Lucy and together they will eliminate Reaver. Doing so will destroy what little law and order there is in that pitiful excuse of a city." Vincent grinned widely at the prospect of going up against the greatest shooter Albion had ever seen. "After a few weeks of total anarchy, that's when I arrive, with Quinn and Murray as my protectors and trainers, arrive and we recruit those whom wish for a better life. Once we train them into the perfect fighting force, we will present ourselves to King Logan. And offer to serve as his bodyguards, in doing so we'll insure that the Cult of Blades is unable to go through with their plans. Any questions?"

"Just two." Quinn declared, "First off instead of going through all this crap, why don't we just find the cult and kill them?"

"Nobody knows where the cult is." The old man explained, "They've remained underground for years. Now what's your second question?"

"What the hell's your name?"

The old man's eyes widened a bit at the simple question before he just smiled, "My name's Cralweg. If that's all then let's get on the move."

The five assassins all turned to leave, Phillip was the last one in the line. Cralweg placed his withered hand on the crazed killer's shoulder.

"I have a gift for you my murderous friend."

* * *

When Jack and Annette rematerialized, the fell to their knees, Annette vomited, while Jack almost coughed out a lung.

"Well that was fun." Annette groaned as she wiped some excess vomit from her mouth.

Jack remained silent as he looked around their new surroundings. They were in some type of large structure. Looking up Jack saw that the building went up for what seemed like forever. The entirety of the structure was made from some strange black stone. Curious Jack walked over to the wall and laid his hand on it. He almost recoiled from how cold the stone was. "Where the hell are we?" he asked no one in particular.

"The Tattered Spire." Voice responded from behind them. Jack and Annette spun around to see an older woman dressed in a white and red robe. A hood concealed the top half of her face, and the lower half wore a small smirk of a smile.

"And who are you?" Annette asked the woman, curious where she came from.

"I am Theresa, the keeper of the Spire." She answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And you are Annette of the Gypsy Camp and Jack the Ripper."

"How do you know who we are?" Jack asked, as his hand inched towards his throwing knife.

"Karl told me all about you Annette, sweet innocent girl. Always dreaming of a life of adventure." Theresa commented, making no sign that she saw Jack reach for his weapon. "And as for you Jack, I've been watching you for years with the help of the Spire. A high profile assassin who takes on the most dangerous of contracts, known and feared throughout Albion as the dreaded Jack the Ripper."

"That doesn't prove that you've been watching me for years." Jack said, "You could've learned all of that at any pub in the kingdom."

"True," Theresa admitted, "Then how about I tell you things that would never be known in a pub. Like how your first kill was your abusive, alcoholic father, or how before you left your home in Bloodstone your sister often made attempts to sleep with you. What bout your older brother who tries to kill you every time your paths cross."

Jack stared open mouthed as Theresa uttered things that he'd only ever told one person, and he knew Dante knew better than to go flapping his gums. How the hell did she know these things? Jack shot a sideways glance at Annette. The girl had a look of horror, disgust and pity, on her face.

"And do I need to mention how your Mother…" Theresa started.

"Stop, I get it. You know everything about me." Jack said quickly cutting her off. "Now what are we doing here?"

"I have brought you two here to save Albion." Theresa stated.

"Save Albion?" Annette repeated, "What do you think we are, heroes?"

"No child, just you." Theresa said looking straight at Annette.

"What?" the young gypsy asked her hand slowly creeping towards her heart. Jack's eyes widened slightly as he looked the girl up and down. "I can't possibly be a hero, I'm just a girl from Bower Lake. There must be some misunderstanding."

"There is no misunderstanding Annette." Theresa stated as she took rather graceful strides over to Annette, "You are a hero and it is part of your destiny to save Albion."

'The girl's a hero?' Jack asked himself, 'Well that would explain the power I felt in her earlier.' Then another thought hit him. "You said both of us were here to save Albion. Does that make me a hero too?"

"No Jack." Theresa answered almost immediately, "You are many things, but a hero isn't one of them. You are something else entirely, something whose nature is unknown, even me."

Jack smirked, "Story of my life."

* * *

Karl returned to the gypsy camp while Jack and Annette were in the Spire with Theresa. Once his aunt was finished with them, she would send them back here, until then he had but to wait.

While he waited, the immortal became aware of someone approaching the camp, someone with a dark and evil presence.

"Well looks like I'll have something to keep myself occupied while I wait." Karl said, as Phillip strolled into the camp. Karl's will markings started to glow as he turned to face the psychopath.


	12. Free For All Part One: Pulled Back In

**In order to help me with a small case of writers block with the main plotline of this story, I've decided to do a quick two shot based off the story Karl told Annette in chapter 4. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

The town of Hook Coast was cut off from the rest of Albion. With little to no trade with the rest of the country, most of its inhabitants were fishermen who mostly fended for themselves. Among these fishermen was young Adrian. No matter what the weather was like Adrian would go out into the water to fish. The young men and women of Hook Coast felt he did this to provide for his family. The Elders felt he was foolish and only did it to boost his ego.

The truth of the matter was actually both. Adrian was a young, confident, and boisterous, individual. And since his only living relative was his sickly grandfather, it was his job to provide for him.

"I'm telling you Adrian, you shouldn't go out tonight." His grandfather warned from his bed, "There's a great big storm coming. I can feel it in my bones."

"Yeah well someone's gotta put fish on the table for you and your bones." Adrian replied as he laced up his boots. "Besides it's just a storm, not like I've never fished through one of those before."

"But…"

"Relax Gramps." Adrian called opening the door, he took a good look at the sky. Indeed it looked like there was a storm coming. "It'll be fine. I'll be home with dinner soon." Adrian should've listened to his grandfather that day.

Adrian gathered his fishing supplies, his crew of friends, and a small amount of rum for afterwards, and set out to sea. The storm hit his boat soon after and tossed the vessel around, as the fishermen battled against both nature and their catch. The waves crashed over deck, knocking the fishermen off their feet and against the railing. Adrian shot to his feet and grabbed on to the net.

"Come on guys!" he screamed over the roar of the storm. "We can't let these scaly bastards get away!" his crew raced to his side and started pulling on the net along side him.

"Adrian I think we'd better get back!" one of his friends yelled as another wave washed over them.

""It'll be fine!" Adrian yelled back, struggling against the storm, "We've been through worse!"

"But the storm's getting worse man! I don't think the ship can take much more!" As if to punctuate the crewmember's point, there was an almost deafening crack, followed by the mast falling over.

Adrian and the rest of the crew let the fishnet go as they leapt out of the falling mast's path. Almost immediately afterwards another wave washed over them, pinning them to the deck.

"Get the oars!" Adrian screamed, "Get us back to the docks!" The crew scrambled for the oars, none of them noticing the large shadow in the water, rapidly approaching the vessel.

The crew froze in their tracks as a loud screech drowned out all other sounds. The men looked around fearfully, searching for the source of noise. The ship suddenly jerked, another deafening screech was heard before the ship was pulled under the waves, never to emerge again. None of the crew survived.

* * *

A knock on the door roused Jonathan from his sleep. With a small groan, Jonathan rose from his bed, careful not to disturb Emily, and made his way towards the door.

"What do you want?" he asked as he pulled the door open. On the other side was a young boy who was panting heavily, like he'd just run a marathon or something.

"Lord Paladin," the boy began, using one of Jonathan's various nicknames, "You're needed at the Hero's Guild." Jonathan looked the boy up and down once more.

"Did you run all the way from Guild Hall?" he asked the boy. The boy gave a quick nod as he tried to catch his breath. "You know you could've just used the Cullis Gate to get here right." The boy's eyes widened as the realization hit him like one of Jonathan's spells. The hero could barely contain his amusement as he ran his hand through the boy's hair. "Head down to the inn and get some sleep kid. Tell them to put it on Jonathan's tab."

The boy nodded before he rushed toward the inn. Jonathan smiled as he shook his head. With practiced silence Jonathan dressed him self in some light leather armor and quickly jotted down a note that read. 'I'm needed at the guild. I'll be home soon.' He left the note on the pillow next to Emily and quietly left his home.

_'I wonder what could be going on that they need me of all people.'_ He wondered as he made his way to the cullis gate. While it was true other famous heroes such as Briar Rose and Thunder were by no means spring chickens anymore, he himself wasn't much younger than them. In addition there were always his son and two daughters.

"So why the hell are they dragging me out of retirement?" he groaned as he stepped into the cullis gate. The familiar tickling sensation flowed through his body as he faded from view. Seconds later he rematerialized at the Heroes' Guild, completing the several day journey the young messenger had taken in less than 10 seconds.

"Ah welcome back to the Guild, Hero." The Guild Master greeted as Jonathan emerged from the magical portal. Jonathan never liked this Guild Master. His predecessor, Weaver, was like a father to him and treated all heroes with respect. This bastard was just a greedy little maggot who saw heroes a way to line his pockets.

"I told you to call me Jonathan, Nigel." The hero growled at the man.

"My apologies Jon." Nigel replied, using a shortened version of Jonathan's name. He scowled again.

"Not 'Jon', Jonathan. Only my wife can call me 'Jon'. Now what the hell do you want?"

"Yes, straight to the point. I've always liked that about you Jon…" Jonathan gave Nigel his worst glare. "…Athan. It would seem there have been some ships disappearing off the shores of Hook Coast. We would like you to look into it."

"You brought me out of retirement to deal with some low life pirates?" Jonathan asked, making a natural assumption that pirates were behind the disappearances.

"I don't think pirates are behind these disappearances." Nigel admitted, "I'm pretty sure your children could've handled a couple of pirates." Nigel almost immediately his choice of words as Jonathan gave him a glare that would've made Jack of Blades himself crawl.

"What was that about my children?" the hero asked, a small amount of lightning crackled from his hands.

"Well, we received a quest card for assistance and all three of your children volunteered." Nigel explained, stumbling back as Jonathan threateningly advanced on him. This was three weeks ago and they haven't reported back yet, so we sent after you."

"Ready the cullis gate." Jonathan ordered as he made his way to his old study. He'd inherited the room after he'd fought and killed Maze all those years ago, and he currently used it to store his armor and weapons. Jonathan walked over to his best suit of armor, Archon's Battle Armor, crafted from the last remaining platinum troll.

Jonathan quickly donned Archon's battle armor as well as hooded cloak that he threw over the armor. Once he was dressed, Jonathan turned to his weapons. He quickly selected Avo's Tear, and the Harbinger. In addition he grabbed Skorm's Bow, and Arken's Crossbow. Finally he packed a bag full of potions. Avo's Tear and Skorm's Bow were for his use. The Harbinger was for his daughter Stephanie, who specialized in Strength abilities. Arken's Crossbow was for his youngest daughter Amelia, who was a master of Skill. Finally the potions were for his eldest child and son, Karl, a very powerful Will user.

Jonathan walked back into the map room just as Nigel finished setting up the cullis gate.


	13. Free For All Part Two: A Father's Enemy

When Jonathan emerged from the cullis gate just outside of Hook Coast he immediately walked into the town. The first thing that caught the hero's eye was a rather large gathering of people standing by the docks. Curious he observed as several people began to toss tiny bits of ice into the water. Upon closer observation Jonathan discovered that the bits of ice had actually been sculpted into flowers.

"Another ship was lost just last night." A voice announced from behind Jonathan. The hero turned to see a man just a bit older than he was.

"Even after all the ships that have been lost, people still go out?" Jonathan asked.

"People gotta eat." The old man replied simply, before he studied Jonathan more closely. "Judging by the armor your wearing under that cloak, and the amount of weapons you have, I'm going to assume that you're the back up hero we sent for."

"Yeah. What happened to the first three that came here?" Jonathan asked fearing the worse for his children.

"They went out on a ship to see what was happening." The old man explained, "Three days later they came back, floating on a piece of wreckage."

"All of them?" Jonathan asked, grabbing the man by his shoulders. "Did all of them make it back?"

"Aye, all three of them." The old man replied, growing slightly afraid, "First time there's ever been survivors."

"Where are they?" Jonathan almost yelled.

"At… at the inn."

"Take me to them." The older man nodded and led Jonathan to the inn. Once inside Jonathan shoved past the man and rushed towards one of the doors. Jonathan had no idea why he entered the room he did, whether it was paternal instincts or something else entirely was unknown to the hero, he chose correctly and immediately saw his children spread across three different beds.

They were all wrapped in bandages, their breathing was shallow and their skin was pale as the snow outside. Jonathan was rendered speechless at the sight of his broken children. Swallowing the bile that was gathering in his mouth, Jonathan ordered the mages in the room to leave.

"Um… sir if we leave now these three will probably die." A young mage said. Jonathan took a quick look at the young man, noticing the bright glowing will lines that ran along his exposed flesh. Jonathan guessed that the mage probably was probably one of the stronger ones in the immediate area, and if he wasn't his children would probably be dead now. Even so, even in his advanced age Jonathan's power still surpassed the power of every mage in this room combined. To prove his point Jonathan let his willpower surge, causing the faded will lines on his neck and face to glow with an almost blinding light. The light emanating from the little bit of exposed flesh, reflected off his armor, magnifying the glow even further.

"Out." Jonathan said, still glowing as though he was a messenger from Avo himself. The mages quickly removed themselves from room, leaving Jonathan alone with his children. Standing before the makeshift hospital beds Jonathan quickly examined the injuries of his children. On the surface their bodies appeared to be fine, just a couple of scars thanks to the mages. But Jonathan knew that the mages hadn't thought of the internal injuries they definitely suffered. He reached out with will and quickly found what he was searching for. Their bodies had suffered numerous internal injuries and were dangerously close to failing.

He focused his will into healing energy and let it flow into their skin. When their condition didn't improve even after three minutes, Jonathan reformed his power. A standard Heal Life spell used the excess life energy of whoever was being healed to help revitalize the rest of the body. Unfortunately his children were on death's doorstep and therefore didn't have any life force to spare. Realizing this Jonathan resorted to a spell of his own creation. He took the basic concept of a Drain Life spell and flipped it around. Now instead of draining a target of his or her life force and using it to heal himself, he sacrificed his own life energy and used it to heal his target.

Thirty seconds later his efforts were rewarded. The breathing of all three of his children became less labored, their skin regained some of its color. Drained of his strength and will, Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief as he dropped the weapon's he carried on the floor and, fell back into a chair. With a trembling hand Jonathan reached into the pack he was carrying and pulled a potion out and consumed the entire bottle. Jonathan felt his energy return to his body.

"Dad?" a voice grabbed his attention. Jonathan looked up as Amelia pulled herself to a sitting position. "What are you doing here?"

"Amelia." Jonathan gasped as he practically leapt from his seat and pulled his daughter into a hug. "How are you feeling honey?"

"Fine Dad." Amelia said returning her father's hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you guys were having some trouble with your quest." Jonathan said stroking Amelia's dark brown hair.

"Oh." Amelia said, blushing a bit. "Well this is embarrassing."

"What is?" Jonathan asked.

"I'm 23 and my dad still has to come bail me out when I get into trouble." Amelia laughed. Jonathan joined his daughter in laughter for a moment before he stopped.

"What did this to you three?" he asked.

Amelia stopped laughing as well once her father asked her the question. She pulled her knees against her chest as she tried to recall what happened.

"I can't remember." Amelia admitted, "All I can remember are screams, cracking wood, an ungodly shriek, tentacles…"

"Wait," Jonathan interrupted. "did you just say tentacles?" Amelia nodded. Jonathan swallowed as he rose from his feet. He grabbed his weapons and headed towards the door.

"Where are you going Dad?" Amelia asked.

Jonathan turned and gave his daughter a small grin. "I'm going to go kill a kraken."


	14. Free For All Part Three: Titan's Clash

A half hour later Jonathan was standing on the docks looking out to sea. He ignored the crowd that was gathering behind him. He paid no attention to the whispers and murmurs that coursed through the growing crowd.

"How's he going to hunt a kraken without a ship?" a person whispered. "Better yet how's he going to hunt a kraken without a crew?" Another asked. The questions and comments ranged from "I hope he doesn't ask me to go." To, "There's no way in hell, I'm going to needlessly throw my life away in such a fool hardy endeavor." Jonathan smirked as he closed his eyes and knelt to the ground. "What's he doing?" everyone wondered as he pulled off his gauntlet and placed his bare hand in the freezing cold water. Jonathan let his will energy freely flow into the water, summoning something from the deep.

In the distance a dark shadow appeared in the water, and rapidly approached the docks. The crowd all backed away in fear as several cried, "He's summoned the kraken here!" Then it happened, an explosion in the water as the shadow erupted from the sea. The crowd watched in awe as an old, wrecked, and decrepit ship sailed to the dock.

"The Ship of the Drowned." Jonathan announced loudly to the crowd. "Sunken ages ago, and taking her crew with her, the ship is manned by a crew of the dead. This vessel is perfect for hunting a kraken. I require no volunteers from any of you, you'd only get in my way and would most likely be killed. All I require are enough supplies for a month."

As the villagers rushed off to get the supplies Jonathan requested he walked up the boarding ramp and stood in the middle of the deck. The several month voyage to The Northern Waste came back to him, along with the immense and perpetual loneliness he felt.

"At least this time, I'll have something to keep me occupied." He muttered.

* * *

For weeks Jonathan sailed the waters with no signs of his quarry. He was about to turn the ship around and head back to the docks for more supplies when it happened. Jonathan was standing at the helm of the ship looking over the open water when a shadow appeared in the water.

"There you are." Jonathan said as rain started to fall. The shadow sped towards the ship as Jonathan removed Avo's Tear from its sheath. The shadow however disappeared deeper into the water. Jonathan wearily searched for any signs of the beast. The ship lurched, almost throwing Jonathan to floor. He managed to keep his footing as four tentacles burst through the deck.

Before Jonathan could react one of the undulating tentacles wrapped around his waist and hoisted him in the air. Jonathan's sword fell from his hand as he was smashed against the deck of the ship. Jonathan groaned as the tentacle pulled him back up in the air and slammed him on the deck again. Jonathan was temporarily dazed as he felt the tentacle tighten its squeeze around his stomach. Desperate he planted his hands on the tentacle and channeled his will into lightning. The sudden shock caused the kraken to release its grip on Jonathan, dropping him to the ground. Air rushed back into Jonathan's lungs as the kraken pulled its tentacles back into the water.

The kraken's monstrous head erupted from the water beside the boat as Jonathan grabbed Avo's Tear from the ground. The beast roared at Jonathan as the hero pointed his sword at it.

"One of us dies today!" Jonathan yelled. The kraken screeched once again as if agreeing with him. The kraken brought its tentacle down in an effort to crush Jonathan. The hero stepped to the side and let the tentacle crash down on the deck half an inch away from him. Jonathan brought his sword down on the tentacle as the kraken started pulling it way. Avo's Tear cut cleanly through the trunk like limb with little resistance. The monstrous creature roared with pain as it pulled a stub back. In retaliation the kraken rammed its body against the ship, knocking Jonathan off balance and nearly capsizing the vessel, sending Jonathan into the stormy waters.

* * *

Back at Hook Coast, Jonathan's three children stood at the docks awaiting their father's return.

"How do you think he's doing?" Stephanie asked her siblings pulling her hood over her head as rain began pouring down on them.

"Knowing him he's hacking away at that thing like a madman." Karl joked as they watched a giant lightning bolt shoot up into the sky.

"Or he's blasting lightning like a mad man." Amelia corrected. The three chuckled as more lightning shot into the sky.

"You know as crazy as it sounds I almost feel bad for the kraken." Stephanie joked, before another roar tore through the sky.

"That roar doesn't belong to a kraken." Amelia commented.

"That was something else entirely." Karl agreed.

"In that case I think dad might've finally bitten off more than he can chew." Stephanie said.

"I'm not too sure of that." Amelia disagreed, "Dad's got a pretty big mouth, and plenty of teeth."

* * *

In the water, Jonathan was helpless as the kraken took advantage of the situation and attacked. The beast swam towards Jonathan, jaws open, and rammed into him. Jonathan only avoided being swallowed whole by planting his armored feet on the beats bottom jaw and holding its upper jaw open with his gauntleted, free hand.

"You are not eating me!" Jonathan gurgled as he stabbed Avo's Tear into the kraken's throat. The kraken burst from the water again, spewing blood all over Jonathan. Once they were out of the water Jonathan channeled more lightning out of his hands and feet. The kraken screeched in pain, almost deafening Jonathan. Ears ringing, Jonathan was barely able make out another sound, a sound coming from above them. Straining his neck, Jonathan looked to sky and cursed his luck.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" He cried as a giant dragon swooped down and slammed into the kraken. Jonathan was thrown clear of the kraken's mouth as the dragon began wrapped its' claws around the sea creature and started ripping chunks out with its 's monstrous mouth. Using the dragon's distraction, Jonathan put as much distance between him and the two monsters while sheathing Avo's Tear. He tried to make it back to the ship but his heavy armor kept dragging him under the water. Jonathan desperately pulled at the buckles holding the armor in place. Jonathan stripped himself down to the leathers he wore under the armor and let it sink to the ocean floor. He hated losing the armor but he sure as well wasn't going to die for it.

Without the added weight of Archon's armor, Jonathan easily made it back to the Ship of the Drowned. Soaked to his bone, Jonathan shivered as he turned to see the dragon triumphantly blast out of the water's surface, holding one of the kraken's severed tentacles in its maw. Jonathan waited for the kraken to resurface, screeching its rage at the flying beast that interfered with its battle. Only it never came up, only a large amount of blood that dyed the water red. Jonathan didn't know whether or not he should be angry that the dragon killed his enemy, or thrilled that he didn't have to deal with it any more.

Jonathan was about to fall back on the tiny amount of railing left on the ship, when a deafening roar announced the dragon's return. Jonathan quickly gathered his will energy around him as the dragon passed over head, raining fire down on the ship. Jonathan dispersed the barrier of will he'd placed around himself as the dragon circled the ship in the water. Gathering will in his hands Jonathan flung fireball after fireball at the winged demon. The hero cursed as the balls of flame harmlessly bounced off the dragon's scaly body.

The dragon seemed to be mocking Jonathan as it shot another stream of fire from its maw. Using the Assassin's Rush spell, Jonathan easily moved out of the fire blast's path. The dragon roared, asserting its superior firepower. Jonathan smirked as he pulled Skorm's Bow off his back. Using the length of time the dragon took to circle around, Jonathan strung the bow and pulled back an arrow. As the dragon neared, Jonathan let his will flow out of his body and used to slow down time itself. With the dragon's advanced slowed to almost a crawl Jonathan had little problem taking a direct shot at the dragon's soft underbelly.

Jonathan struggled to keep the time control spell in place as the arrow sped towards the dragon. Once he saw the arrow break into the dragon's skin, he let the spell die. The dragon jerked in the sky as the arrow buried itself into the dragon's heart. Exhausted from both the fight with kraken and the amount of will he exerted, Jonathan could only watch as the dragon crashed into the ship, bringing the vessel down with it.

* * *

"How does the story end you ask? Did Jonathan survive and make it back to Albion's shore? Or did he perish at sea?" the old storyteller posed these questions to the group of children gathered around him. "To be honest no one really knows, it is said that the hero's children waited a full four months for their father. After which two of the children decided that their heroic father was lost to the sea. But young Amelia never gave up hope. It is said that to this day her spirit still haunts the docks of Hook Coast, waiting for the day her father returned to her. Now it's getting late, and you little ones had better get to bed." The children all scurried off to their caravan's, with the exception of one little girl.

"Thank you for the story Karl." The young girl said offering him a small necklace of flowers.

"You're very welcome Annette." Karl said accepting the necklace, "Now you better get going, your father's gonna worry about you." With that, little Annette rushed off to her caravan. Her father was waiting outside their caravan and scooped her into his arms as she raced up to him. The two laughed as they entered their caravan, leaving Karl alone at the campfire.

"You always did love leaving us at a cliff hanger dad." He muttered as he poked at the fire, causing a multitude of sparks fly into the sky. Karl watched as the sparks arranged themselves into an image of a lone figure standing at shipping docks, with a faint silhouette of a ship in the distance.


	15. A Glimpse of What's to Come

Three days passed as Annette attempted to learn all she could under Theresa's tutelage. Three days of sweat and suffering as the young hero attempted to tap into her inner recesses of will energy. Three days of frustration as she tried to decipher Theresa's cryptic hints and messages. Three days of absolute boredom as Jack sat in the Spire, with nothing to do but count cracks in the walls, he was up to 5,739.

Annette stood in the center of a large, spacious chamber, across from a stone dummy Theresa had created for Annette to focus on. The young gypsy hero held her hands out in front of her, palms pointed at the dummy, trying once again to conjure up a ball of fire or a bolt lightning or something along those lines. As with every other time, nothing happened and Annette just wound up looking rather foolish.

"Argh! Why the hell can't I do this?" Annette yelled to the ceiling, prompting a slight chuckle from Jack who sat against the wall. Annette shot a murderous glare at the assassin and imagined him being slammed against the wall by an invisible force. Wanting to make the image a reality she thrust her hand out in his direction. Jack never moved from his spot, even as the wall next him exploded into the next room.

"Well done Annette." Theresa said, suddenly appearing behind the young woman. "You've accessed the recesses of will energy stored inside of you. From now on you will be able to shape your will however you see fit. As you grow so will your power."

"What will I be able to do?" Annette asked staring at her hands, which bore faint blue lines running across her bare skin. Suddenly her hands started to feel like they were being burned from the inside.

"In time whatever you desire." Theresa said, removing a pair bronze gauntlets from her robes. "But for now these will help you channel and control your power." Annette took the gauntlets from Theresa and slid them on. Almost immediately the burning in her hands disappeared. The gauntlets began to grow warm as her will energy flowed into them.

With a wave of her hand, Theresa brought up a dozen stone targets, as well as a couple of floating orbs, with a red glowing aura. Jack stared in slight amazement at the feats the old lady could perform with a mere wave of her hand. He shuddered at the thought of what she was truly capable of.

"Now then Annette, destroy each of these targets and flit-switches." Theresa instructed. Annette smiled as she brought her hand back, ready to fire off a force push spell. "And I want you to use a different spell for every target."

"No problem." Annette said arrogantly.

"You enthusiasm will serve you well, but try not to let your overconfidence consume you" Theresa said before she turned to Jack, "Come with me." Jack followed her out of the room as Annette cast her first spell.

* * *

"What do you want from me?" Jack asked Theresa as she led him through the Spire. The blind woman turned to him with a slight frown on her face. "I only ask because you said something about the both of us being needed to save Albion, but so far you've only told the girl what she needed to do, become a hero. Meanwhile I've been sitting in the corner, left to collect dust."

"I won't lie to you Jack, you are needed to save Albion." Theresa stated, "But your role in Albion's salvation is different from Annette's. She is the hero who will protect Albion until the next hero's time has come. You are the guardian who will keep her safe until she is ready."

"Why the hell should waste my time keeping some girl I've just met safe?" Jack asked. "Why not you or the old man?"

Theresa held out her hand, motioning for Jack to take it. Jack hesitantly grabbed onto her hand and felt an insane of energy emanating from her. At the same time Jack's vision began to blur, then finally black out completely.

"Let me show what awaits you, and the rest of Albion if you walk out on your fate." Theresa's voice said as Jack's vision steadily returned. Once it was completely restored jack found himself standing in the center of Bowerstone Market, but it was a much different place since the last time he was there. Every building was a blaze of fire, the streets were littered with bodies and sand. Strange shadow creatures and beaked monsters of metal were patrolling the streets, slaughtering the few survivors. The cries of hundreds of victims filled the air. The sky itself had been dyed blood red by some unnatural force.

And then Jack saw it, a strange creature floating just above the clock tower. The creature was pale, thin and lanky. Even though it was hunched over it was still taller than the average adult male. It's long arms ended with hands with long grasping fingers. There were large spikes protruding out of its head, almost looking like a crown for the beast. The creature stared at Jack with six large black, soulless, eyes and opened its serrated mouth.

"The light in your eyes offends us!" it cried pointing a long finger at Jack, "The children demand your death!"

As the monster spoke, Jack felt a slight pain in his back and chest. Then the pain rapidly grew and filled his entire body with agony. Jack glanced down and saw a black, shadowy blade protruding from his chest. As Jack looked back up the creature was longer hovering above the clock tower, instead it was just a few short inches away from him, cackling as he fell to knees.

And then just like that, everything was gone. Jack was standing next to Theresa in the Spire.

"What the fuck was that?" Jack asked as he snatched his hand away from the blind woman.

Jack stared at Theresa as she slowly put some distance from him, she stared at him as well, her perpetual smirk replaced with a concerned frown. Jack could almost swear he saw a hint of fear on her face. For a brief instant Jack wasn't seeing the all-knowing seeress. In stead he was looking at a woman who was genuinely afraid.

"That is what awaits Albion if you walk away from your fate." Theresa explained, quickly regaining her composure. "That is the reason you were born, the reason why your mother's attempt to sacrifice you failed."

"Is this what you wanted to speak to me about?" Jack asked.

"No, I have something for you to do. A quest if you'll indulge me." Theresa said. "I need you to check in on Karl for me. Something is happening right now, if you do not lend him your assistance he'll die."

"I thought he was immortal." Jack said. "How could an immortal die?"

"He won't die from old age and no man can harm him." Theresa stated, "But the being he's fighting right now is far from just a man." Theresa directed Jack to an active cullis gate.

Jack started towards the gate but stopped just short of the glowing circle. "If this thing's enough to kill an immortal, then I'm going to need something a lot better than an iron sword."

"I have no weapons here Jack." Theresa stated, "But instead I can do something else to even up the playing field." As she spoke a green energy started to emanate from Theresa's hand.

Jack felt growing warmth in his chest. Jack marveled as his body was filled with power he never knew he possessed. He felt light, lighter than air, hell he felt damn near invincible. But there was something else he was feeling, something within the new power, fueling it. It was a something he was very familiar with. Rage.

Without another word Jack turned and stepped into the cullis gate. Once he was gone Theresa turned and returned to the room where Annette was training. Most of the targets and flit switches had been destroyed and the young woman lay in the center of the room breathing heavily from exhaustion.

_She's progressing nicely_. Theresa thought. _But she'll have to get stronger if she's to survive what is to come. Both the coming darkness… and Jack himself._

* * *

The stranger had indeed been hostile, the first thing he did was draw out a black sword that curved forward, and try to cut Karl's head off. If it hadn't been for the physical shield spell Karl cast before the blade hit, he would've died right there. Before the stranger could swing again Karl blasted him in the chest with a fireball. The spell sent the threatening man flying out the gate and down the small cliffs just outside.

Karl quickly ran to see if the man had died or not. To his amazement the man was rising to his feet, completely unharmed save for a large burn on his chest. Karl swore as he leapt down the cliff side and faced the strange person.

"Who are you?" Karl asked, "What's your business in the camp?"

The stranger smiled as he responded with a crazed voice, "It doesn't matter who I am, you're all going to die tonight!"

Karl frowned as the man rushed forward, swinging his black sword wildly. Karl calmly gathered energy into his palms, and let it take the form of lightning. Just as the black metal of the sword was about to bite into his neck Karl loosed the storm that had build up inside him. The lightning drove into the assailant's chest, frying several of his internal organs while flinging him across the shoreline of the lake.

Karl sighed as he turned away from the smoking corpse of his attacker. He started back for the camp, before his body suddenly went numb. Karl looked behind him and saw the man he'd just fried not two feet away from him, smiling as smoke trailed off his now frizzled hair. Then blood erupted from a fresh wound that stretched across Karl's back. Stunned, Karl could only watch helplessly as his attacker raised his sword.

"How?" Karl asked, "How are you still alive?"

"The Children have blessed me!" The man said as he moved to cut Karl's head off. "Good bye old man."

"Stop right there Phillip!" a new voice yelled. Both Karl and Phillip turned to see Jack standing a few feet away, an iron long sword in his hand. Jack glared at Phillip hungrily, hungry for revenge.


	16. Awakened

Men become monsters when they lose that which makes them human.

The sound of metal clashing together filled the afternoon sky as Jack and Phillip dueled one another. Phillip's forward curved blade was never able to breach Jack's defenses. Jack would parry Phillip's sloppy swings and strikes, or just dodge altogether. When the opportunity presented it self, Jack would counter-attack and land a crippling blow to the berserker. Or at least it was supposed to be crippling.

Phillip shrugged off every hit that Jack landed on him. It was as if Jack iron blade had become as dangerous as a blade of grass. But what disturbed Jack the most was that Phillip wasn't bleeding. From every wound Jack inflicted on Phillip, a black, noxious, gas leaked out.

Jack heaved with a steadily growing sense of dread. "What in the name of Skorm is wrong with you? You were always insane, but you were never like this."

Phillip just stared at Jack blankly with his cold, black, eyes and the cruel, wicked, smile on his face before he replied, "I have been blessed by the Children. They will never allow me to be harmed by the likes of you."

Jack cursed himself as Phillip pressed the attack forward, true to his berserker nature. What had happened to the power that Theresa had awakened inside of him? Where had that feeling of invincibility gone? Was it just his imagination that had caused him to feel that strong? Or had some sort of demon that was keeping him alive truly blessed Phillip? Either way, Jack was fighting an uphill battle that he would not be winning any time soon.

The exhaustion that had been steadily creeping into Jack's limbs was becoming evident. His movements were slightly more sluggish than earlier. Conversely Phillip still seemed as fresh as he was when the fight had started.

Blood erupted from Jack's shoulder as Phillip landed his first cut. Phillip danced happily as Jack backed away, clutching at his wounded shoulder. The cut was deep, but fortunately missed his arteries. Phillip recklessly rushed forward again, swinging his black sword around madly. For the first time in his life, Jack was too slow. Phillip's forward curved blade wrecked havoc across Jack's body.

By the time Phillip finished his mad flurry Jack was covered in lacerations that were pouring blood. Phillip scoffed as Jack struggled to raise his sword. With a contemptuous swing, Phillip sliced clean through Jack's iron sword like it was a blade of grass.

"See you in hell Jackie-boy." The berserker raised his sword, ready to finish Jack off.

* * *

King Logan strolled through the castle's garden during the evening, the fourteen-year-old prince Michael following closely behind him with ten-year-old princess Zoë riding on his back. The three often enjoyed taking pleasant walks through the gardens. It relaxed Logan after a long day of listening to other people's problems, to just admire the sunset with his two younger siblings.

They came to a stop at the gazebo and rested on the marble benches. While they relaxed, a stranger in a hooded dark brown cloak approached them. Logan and Michael perked up at the sight of the on coming figure, while young Zoë grabbed on to Logan's leg.

The figure called out with a woman's voice, "Your majesty I'm here to offer you my services."

Logan, having no interest in consorting with a prostitute, replied, "I have no need of your services, now leave my gardens at once."

The hooded woman said nothing as she reached inside her robe and tossed at dismembered head at Logan's feet. Logan and Michael both tensed as Zoë cried, burying her face into Logan's hip.

Logan scowled, "Who are you?" the woman slowly removed her hooded cloak, revealing her lightly curved figure, dressed in form fitting gray and black leathers. Her slim face was accented with deep amber eyes and framed by shoulder length brown hair. Logan gasped as he recognized the woman from several wanted posters.

"You're Lucy the Stalker!" Logan exclaimed moving Zoë behind him while Michael screamed for the guards. Lucy remained perfectly composed as several castle guards closed in on her. Once they were close enough, two daggers emerged from her sleeves. Only instead of throwing them into her attackers, as she normally would've done, she flung the daggers at two lampposts.

Almost immediately Lucy disappeared into the darkness once the blades smashed through the glass and put out the candles.

"What does an assassin want with me?" Logan demanded, cautiously stepping out to stand with the guards. "Are you here to kill me?"

"No." Lucy's voice responded from the darkness. Logan, and the guards searched around trying to find the where the voice had come from.

Logan was in no mood to be trifled with, "Then why are you here?"

Lucy's reply was three words, "Phillip the Chopper."

It didn't take long for Logan to put two and two together and he immediately ordered the guards away and Michael and Zoë to their rooms. Once they were alone a deal was struck. Kill Phillip the Chopper.

* * *

Lucy stalked through the lightly forested area that surrounded Bower Lake. Her brown cloak replaced with one that was multi-colored to make her harder to spot among the trees. Living up to her title, Lucy moved in complete silence, not disturbing a single leaf or twig on the ground, the animals around her completely ignoring her.

It was agreed that Phillip would limit his killing spree to the area around Bower Lake, so it didn't take long for Lucy to find evidence of his work. Bodies strewn among the trees, some being picked at by the wild animals. All of them bore evidence of his cruel blade work. Not at all like her style, a single puncture wound in the neck or heart. It wasn't even like Jack's style, a series of carefully placed lacerations intended to bleed out the victim. Phillip cared nothing for subtlety or efficiency. Instead he hacked wildly at his victim, often mutilating them beyond recognition.

As she paused a moment to determine where Phillip's current position was, Lucy's attention was drawn by the sound of swords clashing. Curious, Lucy followed the sound until she found the source, Phillip wielding a strange forward curved sword against a familiar figure.

"It can't be." Lucy whispered as the figure came into focus. "Jack?" There he was with blood pouring from dozens of wounds, kneeling on the ground in defeat, was Jack. Her, childhood friend, the first person she'd ever trusted, the man she'd betrayed in a heartbeat.

She watched in silent despair as Phillip, who was covered in just as many wounds but leaked a strange black gas instead of blood, raised his sword high. Ready for the finishing blow.

Then it happened. A massive supply of energy exploded out of Jack, flinging Phillip and an old man who was nearby aside like a rag-doll, and almost throwing Lucy to the ground. A massive cloud of dust had gathered around where Jack knelt, dyed red by the same energy that come from Jack.

When the dust settled Lucy's heart skipped a beat when she saw Jack. His skin had become an almost unnatural pale color, a pair of phantasmal black wings had sprouted from his back, and every wound Jack had received was sealing itself shut. The grass where Jack stood had turned coal black, as if his mere standing there had burned the area to a crisp.

Finally Jack opened his eyes, eyes that were once a vibrant green, were now bright yellow surrounded by blood red corneas. For the first time since she'd left Blood Stone, Lucy was afraid.

* * *

Somewhere deep in Albion's mountains, hidden deep in the dark forgotten caverns, a large group of men and women in black and red cloaks knelt before an altar. A top of the altar was a large statue of a hooded, armored figure with a mask hiding its face. As they worshipped, the eyes of the statue began to glow, faintly at first but soon they were almost blinding. The cloaked men and women began to clamor amongst each other as a single man in the back of the chamber smiled at the sight.

"It's time." His grave voice rasped, "Jack has finally awakened."

* * *

This was it. This was what he'd felt deep inside himself. That unbreakable power he'd experienced, that sense of invincibility he'd had, and that evil presence he'd felt. This was what Theresa had unlocked inside Jack, and it felt good. He smiled as he pulled off the remainder of his shirt, revealing his almost sickly pale skin, with strange vibrant red markings spread across it, and the strange black wings on his back bore similar markings.

He looked up to see Phillip pulling himself to his feet, shock reading clearly on his face and even his soulless black eyes. Karl stared, open mouthed, at Jack's appearance. The immortal looked like he'd just seen a wraith from the Old Kingdom.

Jack's attention was called back to Phillip as the berserker charged, screaming bloody murder. Jack turned as Phillip swung his sword. For some reason or another, it seemed as though Phillip's movements were now much more sluggish. Jack had no trouble leaning out of the blades path. Phillip hacked and slashed madly, but Jack never had to take more than a half step to dodge. Phillip brought his sword up high and readied to bring it crashing down on Jack's scalp. Only it never reached him. Jack clapped his hands above his head and caught the blade before it ever reached him.

Phillip's eyes widened as Jack lifted his foot and planted it squarely on his chest. The madman flew back, sword wrenched from his hand. Taking a moment to admire the swords craftsmanship, the cool slick touch of the black metal that made up its forward curving blade, even the small horizontal blade that jutted out of the hilt like a hand guard. Jack whistled as he wrapped his hand around the leather bound hilt. _So this is Wretcher's Blade. _

For some reason holding this blade made Jack feel complete. Made him fell like a monster. And for some reason, he liked it.


	17. Empowered

Jack stared Phillip down as he pulled out his signature rusted meat cleavers. The crazed chopper flailed his weapons around wildly, attempting to intimidate his foe. Jack rushed forward, ignoring Phillip's mad swings and with one swing, Jack struck Phillip across his chest, spilling more of the black gas that seemed to have replaced his blood. Phillip screamed in frustration as he tried to land one cut on Jack. Jack tensed his legs and jumped high in the air as Phillip crouched low and swung at Jack's shins. Phillip spun around, expecting Jack to land behind him. He didn't.

As it turned out the black wings that had come out of Jack's back weren't just for show. Jack hovered above Phillip as he searched for Jack.

Jack smiled cruelly as he descended, "Looking for me?"

Phillip spun around and was run through by Wretcher's Blade. More black gas poured out of Phillip's stomach and back as Jack planted his palm on Phillip's face.

"Let's go for a ride." Jack sneered with a flap of his wings. Dust kicked up from the ground as Jack launched himself and Phillip into the air. As they flew up towards the Gypsy Camp Jack caught a glimpse of a hooded figure hiding in the trees. But when Jack tried to focus his vision on the figure it disappeared.

Jack returned his thoughts to Phillip, who was struggling in vain to break Jack's grip. Smirking, Jack threw Phillip to the ground below the as hard as he could. Phillip shot like a bullet and smashed into one of the caravans. The small, wooden, home exploded into nothing but splinters and broken boards.

"I'm sorry Phillip," Jack teased as he landed just outside the small crater that lay where the caravan was but a few seconds ago. "I thought you wanted me to put you down. Certainly seemed like it. What, with how hard you were hitting my arm."

A small crowd had started to gather around as Phillip crawled out of the crater. The crowd gasped upon seeing Phillip surrounded by the malicious black vapor that flowed freely from the several wounds that he'd received from Jack.

Phillip visibly seethed with fury. With a vicious roar he charged forward. "I'll kill you Jack! The Children have promised me victory!"

Jack merely shrugged as he stepped to the side, and swung his sword. The black metal of Wretcher's Blade sliced through Phillip's forearms like hot butter. The berserker howled as Jack brought his weapon back for the final blow.

"But the Children promised me victory."

The voice that responded did not belong to Jack the Ripper. "What made you think that mere children could protect you from me?" The question would forever be unanswered because Jack swung his blade a final time, and Phillip's head fell from his shoulders.

* * *

Lucy watched with dread fascination as Jack soared through the sky, carrying Phillip like he was a squirming child. What happened next would forever be burned into her memory. Jack looked straight at her, eyes that were once so well guarded that any hint of emotion was lost in their cold gaze, were now filled with open, seething rage. Lucy quickly retreated further into the trees, hopefully out of Jack's wrathful glare.

Safely out of Jack's line of sight, Lucy moved through the trees, following Jack and Phillip as best as she could. She heard Phillip scream, followed by a crash. Desperate not to miss anything, Lucy climbed the nearest trees to get a better vantage point. Once she reached the top, she saw Phillip crawling out of a small crater with Jack slowly descending to the ground. Using near by branches, Lucy moved closer to the two enemies as a small crowd gathered around them. When she figured she was close enough she dropped to the ground and ducked behind a bush. What occurred next happened so fast that Lucy didn't even register what happened until after the fact.

Phillip rushed at Jack howling like a wild animal, Jack, smooth as obsidian, stepped to the side as he swung. Phillip's arms were sliced clean through, followed by his head. Lucy stared at Phillip's headless corpse as black gas vented out from his stump of a neck. Suddenly the corpse started convulsing violently. Lucy watched with mute amazement as Phillip's body shriveled up. Before long the corpse looked liked it had been mummified over hundreds of years. Lucy swallowed a bit if bile that had gathered at the back of her mouth when she noticed Jack had disappeared.

"Looking for me Lucy?"

Lucy spun on the balls of her feet and there was Jack, perched on a tree branch like a balverine waiting to pounce on an unwary traveler. The phantasmal black wings draped over his shoulders like a cloak. His glowing yellow eyes glaring straight into her soul. The black, forward curving blade held tightly in his hand. Lucy unconsciously swallowed as she took the whole sight in. She stumbled back as Jack dropped from the branch.

Lucy's hand went to one of the throwing knives on her belt, "Jack?" The winged man paused his advance and curiously cocked his head. "What happened to you?"

"Do you mean before or after you stabbed me in the back?" Jack asked, slowly advancing on Lucy. "Either way, the answer's the same." As he spoke Jack caressed Lucy's face with his hand, "I survived."

Lucy found herself paralyzed as Jack pulled the arm that held his sword back. Every one of her instincts screamed at her to strike at him, to dodge his attack, hell even to run for her life. But her body wouldn't respond, she could only watch as Jack's blade descended upon her.

"Good bye Lucy."

* * *

Annette panted heavily as the ball of flame she'd been holding flared brightly for moment then died completely. Hidden in a dark corner of the room, Theresa frowned slightly as Annette tried to conjure more fire, but to no avail. In truth she was a bit disappointed with the young lady. Especially when in one of her futures, Theresa saw her little protégé flinging balls of fire the size of boulders with little to no effort. Then again this particular future also had Jack leaving his life violence in favor of joining the hippy movement in Mourningwood. Naturally Theresa wasn't exactly betting on this future to occur but it showed that Annette had the potential to become one of the most powerful mages in Albion's history.

_So why is she struggling to master such a basic spell? _The question gnawed on Theresa's thoughts like Sparrow's old dog would gnaw on furniture from time to time. Annette crying out in pain interrupted Theresa's thoughts.

When Theresa stepped forward to find out what happened the smell of burnt flesh wafted into her nostrils. "Are you alright Annette?" Theresa asked. Annette didn't respond as she gently started to rub her burnt skin to try and ease the pain.

As Annette rubbed her hand the pain slowly subsided and was replaced by a warm, tingling sensation. Through teary eyes Annette watched in amazement as the large, ugly burn that spread across her hand, slowly healed itself. "Theresa, are you doing this?"

Theresa gave Annette a curious glance with her blind eyes. "No, I'm not." A thousand different thoughts raced through Theresa's mind as she looked into all possible futures from this point on. She wasn't expecting what she found, but it helped clarify some things for her. Annette's powers lay not in destruction, but rather in restoration. Her earlier prowess in combat spells was only just the initial release of her powers after being bottled up inside her for seventeen years. Now that Will was flowing freely through her body, making itself apparent with glowing blue lines that spread across her skin, it was synchronizing with Annette's peaceful soul and manifesting itself as healing energy.

But she needed to test her theory. Without warning, Theresa conjured a magical blade and grabbed Annette's arm.

"Theresa what are y… AAAAGGGGHHHH!" Theresa violently stabbed the blade through Annette's upper forearm, parting flesh, muscle and sinew with its razor sharp blade.

Annette frantically backed away from Theresa, who simply stood there with her ever present cryptic smirk, and cradled her wounded arm. "What the fuck is wrong with you!"

"Seal the wound." Theresa ordered. Annette stared at her like she was insane, blood seeping from her wound, running down her arm and dribbling to the floor. "Seal the wound or else…" Theresa stopped mid-sentence as a vastly powerful, dark, and familiar aura flared outside the Spire. "No, how could _he _have returned?" she whispered, "Not even Karl is strong enough for this. You'd best seal that wound soon, otherwise you may die."

With that the old woman disappeared from sight, leaving Annette alone as she started to sob. The young gypsy tentatively placed her hand over the wound and pressed down on it to apply pressure. She cried out as her arm throbbed but kept on applying pressure. Suddenly the throbbing was replaced by a warm tingling sensation. At the same time a green glow started emanating from her hand, and then the pain was gone. Slowly Annette removed her hand from the spot Theresa had stabbed and was shocked to find that the wound was gone, not even a scar. Still sobbing from the last remaining bits of pain Annette worked her way over to the wall and leaned against it before drifting to sleep.


End file.
